DRAMATIC LIBRARY 

Vol. I No. 135 



July 28, 1898 PUBLISHED WEEKLY 

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923 Arcli Street 

Pliilaclclpliia 



IN THE TOILS 



A Melodrama in Five Acts 



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BY 

John T. Mclntyre 
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"With Cast of Characters, Time in Representation, Description of 

Costumes, Scene and Property Plots, Entrances and Exits, 

and all of the Stage Business 



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Philadelphia "*• " 
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VtD. 



In the Toils 

CAST OF CHARACTERS 

Ned Benington A wanderer 

Robert Severen A man with a fear 

Gideon Grind A shyster lawyer 

Jack Oakleigh An adventiu^er 

Richard Morton A young barrister 

Bud Brady A tough nut to crack 

Rob Hanlon A detective 

Slugger Rafferty A shoulder hitter 

Helen Morton Richard's sister 

Mrs. Brady Bud's mother 

Maggie Riley Who " lives out " with GiHnd 

Policeman, Italians, Street Venders, Loungers, Etc. 

Time in Representation, about Three Hours. 



COSTUMES 

Ned Benington, age, about 30. Act I. — Rather loud 
brown check suit, somewhat worse for wear ; brown derby 
hat ; russet shoes. Has a dissipated look, and seems reck- 
less as to consequences. Brown wig and mustache. 
Act II. — Same costume, but has lost his reckless look. 
Act III. — Well and quietly dressed. Black cutaway coat 
and striped trousers ; black derby hat. Act IV. — Dark sack 
suit and derby hat. Act V. — Same as in Act IV. 

Gideon Grind, age, about 55. Act I. — Cutaway coat 
and mixed trousers, both sHghtly shiny. Smooth shaven, 
gray wig. Same in Act II. Act III. — Same, with over- 
coat and derby hat, both a bit seedy. Act IV. — Same, 
without overcoat. 

Jack Oakleigh, age, 40. Act I. Loud clothes, fairly 
good in quality ; sack coat and silk hat. Smooth face. 
Same, with soft hat, in Act II. Act III. — Dark suit, derby 
hat, and overcoat. Act IV. — Same, without overcoat. 
Act v.— Same. 

Bud Brady, age, 20. Act I. — Double-breasted black 
or blue coat and vest ; light checked trousers ; tan shoes ; 
pearl slouch hat, and red necktie. Act II. — Same. Act IV. 
— Same, change to black soft hat, and dark necktie. 
Act V. — Same as Act IV, except change to loud blue and 
white dotted necktie and striped trousers. 

Robert Severen, age, 50. Act III. — Elegant black cut- 
away coat, with dark trousers, and patent leather shoes ; 
dark spring overcoat, and silk hat on hat tree in office. 
Act IV. — Same. Act. V. — Same, change to frock coat. 

4 



IN THE TOILS 5 

Richard Morton, age, 30. Act IV. — Dark soiled 
clothes, light brown wig and mustache. Make up very 
pale. Act V. — Neat dark walking suit; dark hat, and 
walking stick. Has lost his pallor. 

Rob Hanlon, age, 30. — Act I. — Dark walking suit, with 
sack coat ; soft hat. Change in Act II to sack suit of light 
material ; brown derby hat. Act V. — Same as Act II. 

Slugger Rafferty. Act II. — Very tough costume. 
Hat pulled down over eyes, and walk with elbows bent and 
head dropped and shoved forward. 

Maggie Riley, age, 18. Act I. — Loose blouse waist, 
rather gay in color. Sleeves rolled up in Scene i. Short 
skirt ; black stockings and shoes, the latter slightly run 
down at the heel. Hat with feathers in Scene 2. Costume 
should be a bit shabby. Act III. — Same, with coat. Act 
IV. — Newsboy costume. Tattered coat and trousers, with 
well-worn shoes : ragged soft hat ; loose blouse shirt, 
open at neck. Act V. — Loose waist, dark skirt, longer 
than in Act I. Neat shoes and stockings. Whole cos- 
tume is much neater than in previous acts. 

Helen Morton, age, 25. Act II. — Neat walking dress 
of dark material ; hat and coat. Act III. — Black dress and 
coat ; linen collar and caffs ; plain black hat. Act IV. — 
Same. 

Mrs. Brady, age, 50. Act II. — Dark colored house 
dress, with white kerchief crossed on bosom ; red wig. 
Act. III. — Same, without kerchief, and with hat and coat. 
Act v.— Same as Act II. 

Conventional dress for Waiters, Policeman, Italians, 
etc., etc. 



PROPERTIES. 

Act I. — Newspaper clipping for Grind ; detective badge 
for Hanlon ; roll of bills for Oakleigh ; bottles, glasses, 
and liquors for bar. 

Act II. — Table cloth and dishes for Mrs. Brady ; sew- 
ing materials, and valise with papers inside, for Helen 
Morton ; revolver for Rafferty. 

Act III. — Duster for Mrs. Brady ; revolver in desk for 
Severen ; knife for Oakleigh. 

Act IV. — Newspapers for Maggie ; revolvers for Oak- 
leigh, Bud, and Benington; knives and rope for 
Italians. 

Act V. — Call bell for Severen ; door bell to ring out- 
side ; two knives for Severen. 



SCENE PLOT 




DIAGRAM OF SCENE I, ACT I 

Scene — Office setting, boxed. Rather shabby furniture. 
Doors, R. I E., R. u. E., L. u. E., and c. in flat. Windows R. and 
L. in flat. Desk and chairs r. c. Haircloth sofa and chair 
L. Book case with legal books down l. A motto or two 
on wall. 




DIAGRAM OF SCENE 3, ACT I 

Scene — Cafe, boxed set. Doors, r. i e. and l. i e. Bar 
at back, with mirror, drinking glasses, and bottles. Tables 
up R. and down L. 



IN THE TOILS 



Act II 




DIAGRAM OF SCENE I, ACT II 

Scene — Living room at Mrs. Brady's home. Doors 
R. I E. and c. in flat. Table l. c. Fireplace L. Sofa R. c. 
Chairs about room. Windows R. and L. in flat. 



Act III 



ELE-VATOR A PICTUi;es 




DIAGRAM OF SCENE 



Scene — Interior of Granite Office Building. Corridor r. 
Robert Severen's oflice, l. Entrances r. u. e. and r. i e. 
Partition A A, with practical door c. Window l. c. Ele- 



IN THE TOILS 9 

vator cage L. in flat. Desk, with papers on top, chairs in 
front and at side, up L. Sola up c. Easy chairs about 
room. Hat tree up l. Pictures each side of window. ^ 

Act IV 



rzD 



PRUtT5TANP 



DIAGRAM OF SCENE I, ACT IV. 

Scene— A street in 4th g. Entrances r. and l. Stores 
in flat with wares exhibited through windows and on pave- 
ment. A, second-hand clothing store ; B, pawn shop witli 
three gilt balls in front ; C, another clothing store ; U, 
butcher's shop. Italian's fruit stand on pavement up R. 
Pedestrians moving in front of stores. Peddlers crying 
their wares. 

DOOR 





DIAGRAM OF SCENE 2, ACT IV 



lO 



IN THE TOILS 



Scene 2, Act IV 

Scene — Room in tenement house, boxed set. Doors 
R. T E., L. u. E., and c. in flat. Rough finished walls. Table 
made of a large box, with two wooden stools at side and 
end, up R. Smoky lamp up L. Fireplace with embers of 
fire at l. front. Stools about room. Chair L. 




DIAGRAM OF SCENE 

Scene — Drawing room, handsomely furnished. Doors 
R. I E. and c. in flat. Heavy portieres hanging at L. 2 e. 
Cabinet with drawers up R. Sofa up l. Table, with two 
chairs R. c, and other chairs about room. 



IN THE TOILS 



ACT I 

SCENE I. — Office <?/ Gideon Grind. For description, see 
scene plot. Enter Grind, r. i e. 

Grind, {calling) Maggie ! Maggie ! I say. Curse the 
brat, where is she now ! 

{Enter Maggie, l. u. e.) 

Maggie. Were you a-calHn' me ? 

Grind. I have been bellowing about the house for the 
last half hour. Did you deliver that message to Mr. Oak- 
leigh yesterday ? 

Maggie. Yes ; I gave it right into his own hooks. 

Grind. Was there an answer? 

Maggie. Yes, but I forgot what it was. 

Grind. Forgot ! Look you, you hussy, you had better 
mind yourself or I'll take a whip to you. 

Maggie. No you won't, either ! You walloped me when 
I was a kid, but I'm too big for that now. An' you look a- 
here, Grindsey, I ain't no hussy, see ! I'm a lady, I am, an' 
don't you forget it. 

Grind. Bah, you poor-house brat, you would have 
starved in the gutter had not I given you a home and 
pampered you with the best of everything. {Sits dow?i at 
desk and fumbles with papers^ 

Maggie, {aside) Best of everything ! Well gee-whizz ! 
if that's the best I wouldn't like to tackle the worst. Pickled 
tripe and cold water for breakfast, shadow soup for dinner 
and sometimes bread that you couldn't cut with a hand- 
saw. 

Grind. Curse the man, why does he not come ? 

Maggie, {aside) Listen to the old sinner praying. Won- 
der what he'd say if he knew I read the note I took to Jack 
Oaklelgh yesterday? I wouldn't have done it, only he for- 
got to seal the envelope. It's not right to put temptation 
in my way, like that. Grind's old enough to know better. 

II 



12 IN THE TOILS 

{K7iock at door in flat}) Here's Oakleigh now. I'd better 
chase myself or the old mug '11 fire me. 

{Exit Maggie, l. u. e.) 

Grind. {Ope?is door) Ah! it is he. You are late, Jack, 
I had given up hopes of you. 

{Enter Oakleigh, door in flat.) 

Oakleigh. Deuced sorry to have kept you waiting. 
Grind. I had urgent business that required my immediate 
attention. But now that I am here, what's in the wind ? 
Something lucrative, I trust. 

Grind. Lucrative is too weak a word. If we pull the 
wires properly ^we can live like bloated bond-holders for 
the remainder of our lives. 

Oakleigh. Indeed ! You interest me. And now, my 
dear Grind, if it would not be asking too much, would you 
mind giving me the particulars of the little scheme you have 
in mind? 

Grind. Listen, and I will explain the nature of my 
speculation. A short time ago I happened to be out on 
some business and was detained until late. On my way 
home I stumbled over a young man who was lying on the 
sidewalk. At first I thought him drunk, but subsequently 
discovered that he was sick. He was well dressed ; every- 
thing about him spoke of means. I called a cab and had 
him taken to my home — out of charity, of course. 

Oakleigh. Well, that's good. I can imagine Gideon 
Grind picking a man out of the gutter and bringing him 
home out of charity. No designs upon his valuables in 
case he died, of course. Very good, Gideon ; you are quite 
a humorist. {Laughing^ 

Grind. To cut it short, he grew delirious ; from his 
ravings I learned that he was the representative of an Eng- 
lish law firm, and had come to this country in search of the 
heir of a large estate in the south of England, one Edward 
Benington, formerly of Boone County, Kentucky. 

Oakleigh. The deuce ! 

Grind. I have heard you speak of an acquaintance of 
that name, and, if I mistake not, he hailed from that very 
county. 

Oakleigh. Yes ; I have a friend of that name, the last 
of a family regarded as being enormously wealthy in ante- 
bellum days. His father was a confirmed gambler, and 
scattered his dollars about like dirt. I met him on a Missis- 
sippi River steamer in the early sixties. The son ran away 



IN THE TOILS I3 

from home at the age of sixteen, and has since been travel- 
ing about the world in search of adventure. I ran across 
him at a race-track a short time ago, and, as he seemed to 
be pretty well heeled, I struck up an acquaintance with 
him by recalling some anecdotes of his father. 

Grind. It is the very man ! We are in luck, Jack. 

Oakleigh. The deuce we are ! I say, Grind, let a little 
light on this matter, will you ? 

Grind. This young Englishman of whom I speak has 
documents, secured from the lawyer of the Boone County 
Beningtons, tracing their genealogy to the time of their 
emigration. 

Oakleigh. Well? 

Grind. I know where those papers are. 

Oakleigh. Humph ! What good are they to us ? 

Grind. Don't 3^ou begin to see my drift. Young Ben- 
ington, according to report, has never returned to Ken- 
tucky. The friends of his boyhood would not recognize 
him if they fell over him. If we secure possession of the 
documents and get young Benington out of the way, 
what's to hinder a young man of your talents from getting 
the genealogical tree, former connections, and private trans- 
actions of the Beningtons by heart, assuming the name of 
Edward Benington, and laying claim to the estate ? 

Oakleigh. An excellent plan ! But can it be carried 
out? 

Grind. Without doubt. In the first place, you have the 
confidence of young Benington. How easy it would be to 
get him into a scrape and land him in jail for a good long 
term. 

Oakleigh. That's all well enough. But the young 
lawyer will split when he hears of the imposition. 

Grind. I have provided for that. He is safe under lock 
and key and in a place from which he would have some 
difficulty in escaping. 

Oakleigh. Good! You have a great head for detail, 
Grind ; pray accept my congratulations. But in regard to 
the documents — you say you know where they are — the 
question is, can we get them into our possession ? 

Grind. I have not overlooked that point. {Drawing 
slip of paper from his pocket)} Here is a personal which I 
clipped from a newspaper, {reads) " Any information rela- 
tive to the whereabouts of Richard Morton will be thank- 
fully received by his sister, Helen Morton, 89 Blank Street." 
{To Oakleigh) My barrister is the person inquired after in 
the personal. From what he said during his delirium I 



14 IN THE TOILS 

learned that the papers in question were in the possession 
of his sister, who accompanied him to this country. I have 
not the least doubt but that we can secure them in good 
time. 

Oakleigh. Bravo, Grind! You are an arch plotter. 
Now it seems to me that the first step should be the cook- 
ing of Benington's goose. The trick will be easy, because 
the police have an eye on him on account of his shady as- 
sociates. But I must leave you, Grind. I have an appoint- 
ment at Maynard's with this very man. I'll see you to- 
morrow and we will discuss this affair in detail. Good- 
night. 

Grind. Good-night, Jack ; keep your eyes open. 

Oakleigh. You can depend upon me. 

{Exit Oakleigh, door in flat) 

Grind. The first step is taken ; I can feel half of the 
Benington fortune in my pocket at this moment. And it 
will be before many days, {chuckling and rubbing his hands) 
before many days. 

{Exit Grind, r. u. e., a?id enter Maggie, l. u. e.) 

Maggie. Ho ! Ho ! Up to some more crookedness, are 
you, you dried up old scarecrow. Going to have a man 
pinched for nothin', are ye ; goin' to swipe somethin' off that 
sick fellow's sister, are ye ? Well, I guess not. Giddy, nor 
you either, Jack Oakleigh. I'll block your little game, or 
my name ain't Maggie Riley. 

{Exit Maggie, door in flat) 

SCENE 2 — A street set in ist g. 

{Enter Bud Brady.) 

Bud. Well, say, this yanks the doughnut. I'll never back 
another scrapper as long as I'm on the dirt. Here I goes 
behind the Port Richmond Cyclone, jist to oblige me 
friends. An' he was a peach, he was. Why, the mug that/ 
he was up against pasted the face off him. An' jist because^ 
I gave him a steer about upper-cuttin de jay, he ups an' 
bangs me on de mug. An' that ain't all ; Reddy O'Toole 
jist told me that Casey, the special's, lookin' fer me wid a 
search warrant fer aidin' and abettin' a prize fight. It's dead 
wrong, that's what it is. They all impose on me because 
I'm litde. 



IN THE TOILS I5 

{Etiter Maggie, r.) 

Maggie. No, siree ; I ain't a-goin to let that mug get 
pinched for nothin' — why Bud Brady ! 

Bud. Hello, Mag ! Where ye goin' in such a rush ? 

Maggie. That's my business. You look here. Bud 
Brady, I've got a bone to pick with you. Where was you 
last night ? Don't you know it was Wednesday, an' fellows 
always go to see their girls on Wednesday nights ? 

Bud. Well, look at that ! Say, Mag, I forgot all about it. 

Maggie. I don't believe it ; you ain't stuck on me or 
you wouldn't forget to come and see me. I was onto you 
the other night when you were a-monkeyin' around that 
Katie Murphy that works for the Dublin dressmaker. 

Bud. {aside) I knowed that 'ud get me me into 
trouble. ( To Maggie) What I tell you is on the dead level, 
Mag. I was up at Casey's Hall ; the Aurora Borealis Asso- 
ciation was givin' their grand annual spasm. Say, it was 
out o' sight ! The police backed up a patrol wagon an' 
pinched the whole gang. You ought to went, Mag. 

Maggie. Indeed! Well, Mr. Brady, when I go out 
a-drivin' I don't do it in a patrol wagon. I am a lady, I am, 
even if me old man is doin' time. 

Bud. I s'pose you keep a carriage now, an' pair o' grays 
an' a big duck with whiskers to drive 'em, eh ? 

Maggie. I never said I did. But if I was a young man 
an' was in love with a young lady, I'd invite her to take a 
spin in the park Sunday afternoons, any way. 

Bud. But how could I do that ? The bloke what keeps 
the livery stable charges two plunkers an hour for an old 
hat rack of a plug that you could see through. I can't afford 
that, Mag ; I only make four per week. 

Maggie. You always have enough to take in them 
scrappin' matches an' free-an'-easies, but when yer out with 
me yer always broke, can't even buy me a lemonade with a 
straw in it or a plate of pink ice-cream. 

Bud. {aside) She's twisted because she can't pull my leg. 
{To Maggie) Now, say, Mag, didn't I buy you a hat full of 
peanuts to put in yer stockin' last Christmas ? On the dead, 
now, didn't I ? 

Maggie. That's right ! Throw it up to me ! If I'd known 
ye'd shoot off about it afterwards I wouldn't have took 'em. 
{Cries.) Bud Brady, I'll never speak to you again as long as 
I live. 

Bud. Ah ! Say, Mag, stop yer slobberin'. 

Maggie. {stampi?ig her foot) I won't ! 

Bud. Ye know I'd make ye a present of a house on West 



1 6 IN THE TOILS 

Walnut Street if I had the stuff. {Puts his arm around 
her.) Stop soakin' yer apron an' I'll take you down to 
Swinghammer's ice-cream joint and blow ye off to soda 
water. 

(Maggie hesitates, then lays her head o?i his shoulder. They 
exit L., Maggie still sobbi?ig.) 

SCENE 3. — Maynard's Cafe. For description, see scene 
plot. Bartenders and waiters about room. Enter HAi>ihON 
and a policeman, R. e. 

Hanlon. I've my eye on a pair of queer sprinklers, 
Slater. Make it a point to be on hand in case I need your 
assistance. 

Policeman. Very well, sir. {Steps back to bar) 

(^;2/^r Benington, l. i y.., followed by a crowd. They all 
walk to the bar) 

Benington. Call for what you want, boys ; it's my treat. 
The wager was won and lost fairly. 

Hanlon. {aside) That young fellow has an honest look, 
but, if we are to judge men by the company they keep, he's 
crooked. He's been hand and glove with Jack Oakleigh, 
the slipperiest bird in to.wn, for some time. I'll keep my 
eye on you, my friend, and find out what you're made of. 

(Benington crosses over to table in ceyitre and sits down.) 

Benington. Well, this is a pretty state of affairs, I must 
say. Here I am, stranded in a strange city without a five in 
my clothes — a fitting wind-up to a roving life. For fifteen 
years I have wandered about the world, spending my money 
in dissipation. I cannot recollect one dollar that has gone 
to feed the hungry or clothe the naked — all went in a whirl 
of profitless pleasure. But now that I am at the end of my 
rope I will settle down. This is a good city for a man of 
energy ; I will stay here and begin life anew. I have been 
an infernal fool, but my future shall radically differ from my 
past. To-night winds up the page of prodigality in my ca- 
reer ; to-morrow I turn over a new leaf 

{Enter Maggie, l. i e.) 

Maggie, {aside) I wonder if that man Benington 's here 
now ? Maybe this duck knows him. ( To Benington) 
Excuse me, mister, do you know any one by the name of 
Benington here ? 



IN THE TOILS 1 7 

Benington. Why yes ; that's my name. 

Maggie, {aside) Well, look at that, I struck it the first 
time ! ( To Benington) Well, I've got somethin' to tell ye, 
somethin' you'll be mighty glad to know. {Enter Oak- 
LEiGH, L. I E.) Gee-whiz, {Aside) If there ain't that mug 
Oakleigh ; I'd better skip or he'll drop to my game. 

{Exit Maggie, r. i e.) 

Benington. {looking after her.) Well, that's a queer 
girl ! I wonder what she wished to tell me. 

Oakleigh. {slapping Benington 07i shoulder) Well, Ned, 
my boy, how do you find things ? 

Benington. Poor, Jack, mighty poor. 

Oakleigh. {laughing) What's this, Ned Benington, the 
jolliest blade in the Quaker City, down with an attack of 
blue devils ! Come, come, old man, what's the trouble, 
perhaps I can remedy it. 

Benington. In the first place I'm broke, in the second 
I have had an attack of conscience. 

Oakleigh. {laughi?ig) Is that all ; I supposed it was 
something serious. Don't you know, my boy, the latter in- 
variably follows at the heels of the former. {Aside) Here's 
my chance : Jack Oakleigh you have the devil's own luck. 
( To Benington) I happen to be pretty well heeled at 
present, Ned, and can loan you a hundred. 

Benington. Thank you, old fellow ; fifty will be plenty. 

Oakleigh. But I have nothing smaller than a hundred. 

Benington. Then we will break it on a bottle. {Raps 
on the table arid waiter crosses over) A bottle of dry, Jack- 
son, and be spry ! 

Waiter. Yes, sir ; have it here in a moment, sir. {Goes 
to bar) 

Oakleigh. {handing note to Benington) Here you are, 
Ned ; if you want any more you know where to come. 

Benington. Thank you, Oakleigh ; I'll not forget this. 

Oakleigh. {aside) No ; I hardly think you will. 

( Waiter puts a bottle a?id glasses on table. Benington hands 
him the bill) 

Waiter. I will bring your change at once, sir. 

Hanlon. {aside) I'll have a peep at that note. {Steps up 
to waiter) I'm a police detective. {Shozvs his badge) Let 
me see that note. 

Waiter. Yes, sir ; here it is, sir. 

Oakleigh. {aside) By all that's black, there's Hanlon, 
the fly cop, examining the queer. My scheme has worked 



l8 IN THE TOILS 

quicker than I expected. I must get out of this, or I'll go 
up the flue with Benington. 

{Exit Oakleigh, l. i e.) 

Hanlon. Just as I expected, counterfeit. 

Benington. Hello! Where the deuce has Oakleigh 
gone ! Here, waiter ; where's my change ? 

Hanlon. Ha, Oakleigh has scented danger and es- 
caped. I'd give five years of my life to put that man behind 
the bars. But I've got his pal ; that's some comfort. 

Benington. Waiter, I say, hello there ! Where's my 
change ? 

Hanlon. {laying his hand on Benington's shoulder) 
The only change you'll get, young fellow, is a change of 
clothes and climate. 

Benington. i^Hsifig) What do you mean ? 

Hanlon. That you are under arrest. 

Benington. Under arrest ! And for what ? 

Hanlon. For shoving the queer. ( To policeman) Slater, 
take this man in charge. 

{Policeynaji seizes Benington.) 

Benington. Release me, you scoundrel, or you shall re- 
pent this outrage upon an innocent man. 

Hanlon. I would advise you to keep quiet, young fel- 
low ; everything you say now will be used against you at 
the trial. 

{Enter Bud and Maggie, r. i e.) 

Benington. Trial ! Do you mean to say that I shall be 
compelled to submit to the indignity of atrial for an offense 
I unwittingly committed. I declare before Heaven that I am 
guiltless of intentional crime ! 

Bud. That's on the dead level, Mr. Hanlon. That man's 
innocent, an' what's more, he's the victim of a plot, 

Hanlon. ~\ 

Waiters. ( ^, . ^. . i . :. 

Policeman, f ^^^^ ^^^^^"^ ^^ ^ P^^^ • 

Loungers. J 

Maggie. Yes, the victim of a plot, an' I can prove it ! 

curtain 



ACT II 

SCENE I. — Mrs. Brady's home. For description, see scene 
plot. Mrs. Brady arrangitig the tea table. Helen sew- 
ing. 

Mrs. Brady. Shure, I dunno what could have come 
over him at all, at all. Five weeks is a murderin' long time 
to shtay away widout sayin' a word. An' then to leave his 
sister all alone in a strange place, wid divil a cent till bless 
herself wid. Faix it beats me, so it do, an' that's the truth. 

Helen. He complained of feeling unwell when I last 
saw him, and I have often thought that, perhaps, he had 
been taken ill among strangers who, not knowing him, 
have been unable to communicate with me. 

Mrs. Brady. But, shure, you went to the police station 
an' all av the hospitals, an' sorra the thing could they tell 
ye about yer missin' brother. 

Helen, {weeping) No, nothing, Mrs. Brady. I sometimes 
think him dead. 

Mrs. Brady. Tut, tut, tut ! Sorra the bit av him's dead. 
You'll soon have him back alive an' well. {Aside) It 
wouldn't do to tell her, but I've been to the morgue ivery 
mornin' fur a week back, an' ivery time expectin' to see 
him stretched out cold an' stiff. He had money about him 
an' he's met wid foul play, an' that's the opinion of Nancy 
Brady. 

Helen. Another thing of which I wished to speak is 
your disinterested kindness. But for you I should now be 
friendless, penniless and homeless in this great city. Poor 
Richard had all our funds and letter of credit upon his per- 
son when he disappeared, and upon his failure to return — 

Mrs. Brady. The blaguard landlord turned you out. 
Divil a stroke av work I've done fer him since, the thafe av 
the world ! 

Helen. I should have gone mad in my despair had you 
not held out a helping hand, given me a home and found 
me ernployment. I can never thank you sufficiently for 
your kindness to a poor, friendless girl. 

Mrs. Brady. Arrah ! darlin', don't be talkin' to me. I 
only wish I could give ye a better home than this an' feed 
ye on spring chicken instead of kidney stew. Shure here 
I'm blatherin' here {blustering about), an' Bud'll soon be 
home, an' will be as mad as a hatter if his supper ain't 
standin' ready fer him. Musha ! but I don't know what's 

19 



20 IN THE TOILS 

come over the boy since he took up wid the gang of 
blaguards on the corner beyant. He's gettin' to be a reg- 
ular scalawag, so he is. To see the walk on him {swagger- 
ing about) you'd think he owned the biggest part av the 
City Hall. {Enter ^\5V>, door in fiat) Ah! here's the bla- 
guard now. 

Bud. How do, Miss Morton ? Heard anything of your 
brother yet ? 

Helen. No, Bud, nothing ; and I sadly fear I never 
shall. 

Bud. Don't say that ! YeVe always got a chance until 
yer laid out stiff. Your brother's all hunkey. I'll bet he's 
out on a batter, and'U turn up all O. K. when he gets braced 
up. Supper ready, mom ? 

Mrs. Brady. Faith an' it's not, an' it won't be for an 
hour. 

Bud. Well, say ! Yer dead slow ! Get a move on, will 
ye? I'm goin' down to O'Hallihan's to see a scrap. 

Mrs. Brady. Begorra, them scrappin' matches'll be the 
death av ye yet ; d'ye mind that, now ? 

Bud. Ah ! Yer twisted, old lady. I can put up my fives 
with any of 'em, see ! {Strikes pugilistic attitude and dances 
about)) 

Mrs. Brady. Arrah, look at the style of the spalpeen, 
look at him now ! {Seizing a plate from the table) Sit down, 
ye omadhaun, or I'll knock ye down. 

Bud. What do ye think of me style, mom ? 

Mrs. Brady. Faith, an' I'll knock some of the st3''le out 
av ye if ye don't keep better hours. Where were ye last 
night ? 

Bud. Oh, down to Maynard's Cafe. 

Mrs. Brady. Maynard's Cafe, is it? An' what the divil 
were ye doin' in a swell place like that? 

Bud. Why, ye see, the beaks pinched a bloke an' took 
him to the jug in a ding-ding. 

Mrs. Brady. The beaks pinched a bloke, is it? Faith, 
an' Mrs. Flannigan's parrot pinched me wid his beak last 
Monday, an' begorra, I kin feel it yet. But what the divil's 
a bloke an' a ding-ding, I dunno. Bud Brady, I want ye 
to keep away from that Slim Jim's laundry ! Sure I be- 
lieve the pig-tailed blaguard's been learnin' ye to jabber 
Chinese! 

Bud. Oh, ye don't catch on. A beak's a copper an' a 
bloke's a man. The man was arrested for shovin' the 
queer. 

Mrs. Brady. Oh, that's it ! Why the divil didn't ye say 



IN THE TOILS 21 

that in the first place, an' not go blatherin' about ding-dings 
an' the Hke av that ? Did ye know the man ? 

Bud. His name was Edward Benington. He said he 
came from Kentucky. 

Helen. Edward Benington! And from Kentucky! 
Why, that is the name and native place of the man Richard 
was in search of The name is a most uncommon one. 
Surely this is not a coincidence. 

Mrs. Brady. Arrah, look at that, now. Here he has a 
fortune comin' to him an' gets himself into jail for passin' 
counterfeit money. It'll be a long time a-fore he'll enjoy his 
good luck, I'm thinkin'. 

(A knock at door in flat.) 

Bud. That's some one knockin' at the door, mom. 

Mrs. Brady. Av course there is you lu-nat-ic ! D'ye 
think the door could knock at itself? Open it an' see 
who's there. 

Bud. {opening door) Well, what d'ye want ? 

{Enter Slugger Rafferty, c.) 

Slugger. I'm lookin' fer a young lady named Morton. 

Helen, {arisiiig) That is my name. 

Slugger. I've got a note fer ye from a duck that says 
he's yer brother. {Hands her the note) 

Helen. My brother! Thank God! Tidings from him 
at last ! Now a weight is lifted from my heart in the knowl- 
edge that he is alive. Where is he ? {To Slugger) Why 
did he not communicate with me before and relieve me of 
this dreadful suspense? 

Slugger. Don't know. Maybe the note'll tell ye. 

(Helen opens envelope and reads) 

Bud. {aside to Mrs. Brady.) Say mom ; d'ye know who 
that tough-lookin' mug is ? 

Mrs. Brady. I do not, an' I don't want to. D'ye think 
I have nothin' to do but go around gettin' acquainted wid 
tough mugs, as ye call thim ? 

Bud. That's Slugger Rafferty, the collar-an'-elbow 
wrestler. He can down anything in the ward from a glass 
of lager to Duckey McFee. 

^ Mrs. Brady. From the looks av him, I think he prac- 
tices most on the lager. 

Helen. Richard has been ill, is not yet strong enough 
to leave his bed. Oh, Mrs. Brady ; to think of his tossing'in 
the agonies of fever and me not beside him to nurse him 



22 IN THE TOILS 

back to health and life. He asks me to come to him at 
once {putting on her bonnet and coat), and desires me to 
bring the papers concerning the Benington case with me. 

Mrs. B'rady. But you'll wait for supper, Miss Helen. 
Do, darlin' ; it'll give ye strength. 

Helen. No; I must go at once. I cannot delay an 
instant. The documents are in my grip ; I shall take them 
as Richard directs. 

{Exit Helen, r. i e.) 

Slugger. Say, old woman, tell her to get a gait on, will 
ye ? 

Mrs. Brady. Old woman, is it? Begorra, ye black 
muzzled divil, I want ye to know that I'm no old woman ; 
d'ye mind that now ? 

Slugger. Ah, don't git cranky about it ; I don't want no 
muss with a woman, I don't, see ? 

Bud. Well, say, ye galvanized Turk, maybe ye'd like a 
little mix up with the old woman's son ? Take off yer coat 
an' I'll thump yer ribs loose. {Squajdng off at Slugger.) 

Slugger. Ah, what's the matter with ye, ye chump ! I'd 
paralyze ye in a punch. 

Mrs. Brady. Here, here! I'll have no monkey shines in 
this house. Shut up now or I'll settle the pair av ye. 

{Enter Helen, r. i e., with small valise}) 

Helen. I am quite ready. Good-bye, dear Mrs. Brady 
{kissing her) ; you were my only friend in the hour of need. 
Good-bye, Bud. 

Bud. Good-bye, Miss Morton, 

{Exit Helen and Slugger, c.) 

Mrs. Brady, {calling from doorway^ Good-bye, darlin'! 
Don't forget to let us know how yer poor brother s gettin' 
on. {Closing the door) Arrah, but she's the- sweet creature ! 

Bud. Ain't she, though. Say, I wish she' d do that to me. 
{Smacking his lips.) 

Mrs. Brady. Do what? 

Bud. Kiss me ; yum ! yum ! 

Mrs. Brady. Kiss ye, is it ? Begorra, ye Port Richmond 
dude, d'ye think a real lady like that would kiss a big, dirty- 
faced blackguard like ye ? 

Bud. Why, ain't I good looking ? 

Mrs. Brady. Arrah, go long out av that ! {Seizing a 
broom) If ye don't want yer looks spoiled, ye'll quit makin' 
a show av yerself. 



IN THE TOILS 23 

Bud. But on the dead level, I don't like this. 

Mrs. Brady. An' ye'll like it less if I welt ye wid this 
broom. 

Bud. Ah ! I ain't kiddin' now. I mean I don't like Miss 
Morton's goin' out with that duck, Rafferty. He's a tough 
nut, he is ; he'd strangle his grandmother for the price of 
the growler. 

Mrs. Brady. Shure, Buddy boy, when I come to think 
av it, the spalpeen had a divilish look. Whorra ! Whorra ! 
Why did I let her go at all, at all ! 

Bud. I'll chase 'em up, an' if Rafferty tries to ring in any 
crooked work, down goes his shanty. 

{Exit Bud, c.) 

Mrs. Brady, {calliiig from doorway) Bud Brady, if ye 
don't bring Miss Helen back safe an' sound, an' smash the 
divil out of that schooner-hoister Rafferty, I'll have ye sent 
to the penitentiary for Hfe. {Closing door) Somethin' bad'll 
happen to the creature. 1 feel it in me bones. Whorra ! 
Whorra ! Why did I let her go ! An' Bud, too. I hope he 
won't get hurt. Begorra ! the young blaguard would fly at 
the divil himself if his blood were up. 

{Exit Mrs. Brady, r. i e.) 

SCENE 2. — Exterior of Grind's office, set in ist G. Door 
in flat, c, leading into office. E7itrances R.aiid l. Lights 
half up. Enter Helen and Slugger Rafferty, r. 

Slugger. This is the house. {Knocks at the door in flat) 
Helen, {aside) I am getting nervous. The neighborhood 
is so deserted and the buildings so dark and gloomy. 

{Door opens and enter Grind, c.) 

Slugger. This is the lady you sent me for. 

Grind. Ah, my dear young lady ! I'm delighted at your 
coming. The young man can hardly restrain his impatience 
to see you. {Aside) And that's the truth, only the young man 
happens to be Jack Oakleigh. 

** Helen. Oh, sir, take me to him at once ! I have been 
so long in suspense that I cannot delay seeing him one mo- 
ment longer than is necessary. 

Grind. You are not a whit more anxious than he is. Will 
you walk in ? 

Slugger, {aside) To my parlor, said the spider to the fly, 

( They all exit, door in fiat. Enter Bud, r.) 



24 IN THE TOILS 

Bud. Well, I'm onto the joint he's steered her to. It was 
the old duck that Mag works for that let 'em in. I could see 
that front of his five blocks away. Well, say {looking up at 
house), Miss Morton's brother might be in that ranch, but I 
don't believe it. Anything old Grind puts his hooks on must 
pan out the gilt, an' he ain't particular what it is. I think I'll 
put me lamps on the back part of this shebang ; maybe I can 
get inside an' find out what's on the carpet. 

{Exit Bud, l., and enter Benington, r.) 

Benington. Well, this is a most surprising train of 
events. That girl, Maggie Riley, is a brick. She not only 
succeeded in getting me out of the clutches of the law but 
showed me that Jack Oakleigh, a man whom I deemed my 
best friend, gave me the bogus money for the sole purpose 
of getting me into trouble. Well and good, Mr. Oakleigh ! 
I will endeavor to return the compliment, and perhaps in 
an equally disagreeable manner. 

{Enter Hanlon, l.) 

Hanlon. Ah ! Well met, Mr. Benington ; accept my 
apologies for the trouble I gave you last night. Will you 
shake hands ? I trust you bear me no ill will. 

Benington. Certainly not. Appearances were against 
me, and you but did what you thought your duty {shake 
hands). 

Hanlon. You show your good sense. There is some- 
thing in store for you. This girl, Maggie Riley, has put me 
on the track of an exceedingly sharp game. I cannot 
reveal its nature at present, but subsequent developments 
will prove most surprising to you. By the way, I want to 
give you a tip. When you get into a strange city, don't 
grow intimate with every gentlemanly fellow you run 
across. Men of Oakleigh's stamp have ruined more young 
men than any other sort of crook in the city. 

Benington. Thank you ; your advice is good. 

Hanlon. I must leave you, as I have work on hand 
that will keep me jumping till morning. Good-night. 

Benington. Good-night. 

{Exit Hanlon, r., a7zd etiter Bud, l.) 

Bud. {aside) I'm dead sure now that there's something 
crooked goin' on. I heard that fly duck Oakleigli chinnin' 
to oldGrind, an' when that team pulls together straight peo- 
ple want to keep tlieir lamps wide open. Hello! — blame 
me, if there ain't the young fellow that Oakleigh tried to put 



IN THE TOILS ^5 

in the jug. Now if I go a-huntin' up the cops I might be 
too late to help Miss Morton. I'll bet a nickel this fellow's 
dead sore on Oakleigh an' 'ud go into this thing with me if 
I gave him the brace. Excuse me, young fellow {to Ben- 
ington), I want to ask you a question. 

Benington. a dozen if you wish. 

Bud. One'U do the trick. Don't a gentleman always 
help a lady in distress ? 

Benington. A true gentleman will do so, always. 

Bud. On the dead, now, are you a gentleman ? 

Benington. Well-er-yes ; I make some pretension to 
the title. 

Bud. a pair of crooked mugs has steered a lady into that 
joint there. I ain't onto their game, but you can bet yer 
life it's on the cross. You know one of the birds ; his name 
is Oakleigh. 

Benington. Oakleigh, well he's a greater scoundrel 
than I imagined. My friend, if I can be of any assistance 
to the lady I am at your service. It shall never be said that 
Ned Benington refused succor to a woman in distress. 

Bud. Say, when I first put me lamps on you I knowed 
you were built on the correct plan, There's a window open 
around at the back of the house. An' say, when we once 
get inside, an' I get a chance to put up me hooks with that 
mug Rafferty, I'll put him to sleep so quick that he'll think 
he was struck by lightnin'. 

{Exit Bud and Benington, l.) 

SCENE 3. hiterior of Grind's office, same as Act i, Scene i. 
For description, see scene plot. Eriter Grind and Helen, 
door in flat. 

Helen. I beg of you, sir, to take me to my brother im- 
mediately. 

Grind. Restrain yourself, my dear young lady ; you 
shall see him in good time. Meanwhile I desire to ask a 
few questions. 

Helen. Proceed, sir. 

Grind. First, allow me to summon a very dear friend 
of Richard's, a very dear friend indeed. Mr. Oakleigh 
{calling), 

{Enter Oakleigh, left door) 

Allow me to present. Miss Morton, your brother's firmest 
friend. Oakleigh, this is Richard's sister. 

(Helen and Oakleigh bow) 



26 IN THE TOILS 

Oakleigh. Miss Morton, I am delighted. {Aside) Fine 
girl, that. 

Grind. With your permission, Miss Morton, we will 
now proceed to business. Your brother's mission to America 
was to hunt up the heir of a certain estate, was it not ? 

Helen. It was, sir. 

Grind. He has important documents, proving the right- 
ful claim of one Edward Benington, of Boone County, Ken- 
tucky, has he not ? 

Helen. You have been correctly informed, sir. (Aside) 
I begin to fear these men. What means all this questioning ? 

Grind. In the note written at your brother' s dictation, 
he requested you to bring these documents with you. Have 
you done so ? 

Oakleigh. (aside) The point at last ! 

Helen. I have done as Richard desired. 

Oakleigh. (aside) Good! 

Grind, (rubbing his hands) Will you let me see them ? 

Helen. The documents are of great importance. I shall 
require to see my brother first, then act according to his 
desires. 

Oakleigh. (aside) Humph ! It will be more difficult 
than we anticipated. 

Grind. But, my dear young lady, your brother has 
authorized me to examine them. 

Helen. You will pardon me if I insist upon seeing him 
before the papers leave my possession. 

Grind. And I insist that you turn them over to me. 
Jack, lock the door ! 

(Oakleigh locks door in flat) 

Helen. What is the meaning of this ? 

Oakleigh. It means that we want those papers and in- 
tend to have them. 

Grind. And that we have a nice little cage to lock you 
up in until Jack Oakleigh proves to the satisfaction of the 
trustees of the estate that he is Edward Benington. 

Helen. Oh, Heaven ! I see it all now. You have de- 
coyed me here to rob me of the papers entrusted to my 
care ! But you shall not have them ; I will defend my trust 
with my life ! 

Oakleigh. You had better submit, girl. 

Helen. You shall kill me first. Allow me to go from 
this place at once and unmolested, or I shall give an alarm. 
(Oakleigh seizes her, and Grind takes the docutne?its from 
the grip) Help ! Help ! 



IN THE TOILS 27 

Oakleigh. Hush ! j^ou little fool ; there is no one here 
to help you ! 

{Enter Benington, r. i e.) 

Benington. You mistake, Jack Oakleigh ; I am here ! 

Oakleigh. [releasing Helen) The deuce! {Grasping 
GrIxMd's ar7n?j It's Edward Benington. 

Helen. Oh, sir! Save me from these ruffians I implore 
of you ! 

Grind, {to Oakleigh) The foul fiend, seize him ; how 
came he here ? 

Benington. Compose yourself. Miss ; you are perfectly 
safe under my protection. 

Oakleigh. You are out there, Ned Benington ; you 
have played directly into our hands. Instead of one pris- 
oner we now have two {catliiig). Rafferty ! {Enter Slugger, 
left door.) Cover tiiat man ! (Slugger draws revolver 
and points it at Benington.) If he attempts to move, 
shoot him down ! Now, Ned Benington, who holds the win- 
ning hand ? {Enter Bud through ivindow in flat, seizes re- 
volver and knocks doivn Slugger.) 

Bud. {pointing revolver at Oakleigh and Grind) Bud 
Brady, you brace of beats ; an' it's a full house ! 

quick curtain 



ACT III 

SCENE. — Corridor i?i the Granite Office Building. Sev- 
eren's office, L. For desct-iption, see sce?ie plot. Sev- 
er en seated at desk reading letter. 

Severen. So this very perplexing hunt is ended at last, 
and the heir of the Benington millions has made his appear- 
ance. Well, I am heartily glad of it; the case has been a 
most complicated one. Let me see ; the heir writes that 
he will call at noon. I trust he will have no difficulty in 
proving his identity, as I should like to wind up the affair 
at once and have done with it. 

{E7iter Mrs. Brady and Maggie., r. i e.) 

Maggie. Say, them elevators is out o' sight. This beats 
keepin' house for old Grind all to bits, Mrs. Brady. Since 
you got me here helpin' you to clean these offices I'm hav- 
in' a dead easy thing of it. A steam lift to hoist me up to 
the tenth floor, an' a'most nothin' to do when I get there. 

Mrs. Brady. Arrah, quit yer clatter. Maggie allanna! 
or we wont get started to-day. This is Mr. Severen's day, 
an' if there's any one inside we'll have to roust them out. 
{Knocks at office door) 

Severen. Come in. 

Mrs. Brady, {eiitering office with Maggie) Good-mornin* 
to ye, Mr. Severen. It's sorry I am to be disturbin' 3'e, sir; 
this is yer cleanin' day, an' we've come to slick up a bit. 

Severen. True, Mrs. Brady ; I had forgotten {rising 
and taking np his hat and oveixoat from hat tree). I will 
attend to some outside business and be out of your way at 
the same time. 

{Exit Severen, closing office door, r. i e.) 

Mrs. Brady, {remoimig hat and coat) Arrah ! but he's 
the nice man. A real gentleman, if there ever was wan. 

Maggie. Say, Mrs. Brady, you know Bud ? 

Mrs. Brady. Of course I know Bud ! Shiire, an' it 'ud 
be a queer thing if I didn't know me own son. 

Maggie. Well-er-did he tell ye that — I mean did he 
tell ye anything ? 

Mrs. Brady. Faith an' he did, that ! He told me that he 
swept the sidewalk with Owen Grady's boy Dinnis fer 
callin' me a red-headed owld scarecrow, more power to 
him. 

28 



IN THE TOILS 29 

Maggie. Didn't he tell ye anything else ? 

Mrs. Brady. Divil a thmg. {Bustling about with duster 
and arranging things on desk.) 

Maggie. Didn't he tell ye that me an' him was en- 
gaged ? 

Mrs. Brady. Engaged, is it ! Faith he did not, or I'd 
a-broke the blaguard's head ! 

Maggie. Well, it's true ; we are engaged. 

Mrs. Brady. Shure yer jokin'. 

Maggie. Not a bit ; you can ask Bud himself. 

Mrs. Brady. Is it you that's engaged to my boy, Bud ? 

Maggie. To your boy. Bud. 

Mrs. Brady, \laughing) Arrah, begorra that takes the 
cake ! Bud Brady engaged, an' him only makin' four dol- 
lars a week! {Laughing) Shure the big gommouch must 
be crazy and ye must be the same, Maggie Riley. Troth, 
the pair av ye could starve to death right nicely on that 
much money ! 

Maggie. But we're not going to be married till Bud gets 
his job in the post-office. He says he's got a pull in hi^ divis- 
ion, an' it won't be long. 

Mrs. Brady. But, sure, if ye are not goin' to be married, 
what the divil are ye engaged for, I dunno ? 

Maggie. Because {sodding) I love Bud and Bud loves 
me. {Cries.) 

Mrs. Brady, {aside) Shure an' I do believe that she thinks 
well of the boy. Arrah, don't cry, darlin'. {To Maggie) I 
was only jokin'. 

{Enter Benington and Helen, r. u. e.) 

I'd rather have yerself fer my Bud's wife than any other 
girl in the world. ( They emdraee.) 

Helen. Are you quite sure that Mr. Severen's office is on 
this floor ? 

Benington. The porter said so, at any rate. Ah ! here 
it is. {Knocks at office door.) 

Mrs. Brady. Hush, Maggie, allanna ; there's some one 
at the door. {Opens door) Shure, an' is it yourself, Miss 
Helen, and ye, too, Mr. Benington ! 

Helen. What! You here, you dear, good old soul! 
{Kisses Mrs. Brady.) 

Benington. Good morning, Mrs. Brady. We have called 
to see Mr. Severen. 

Mrs. Brady. An' he's jis this minute gone out. I sup- 
pose it's advice ye'd be after askin' of him. Troth an' if 



30 IN THE TOIL 

they came to me for advice {aside), I'd tell them to go to 
the first parson, faith an' I would that. 

Maggie. Say, Mr. Benington, I seen old Grind and Jack 
Oakleigh this mornin' ; why don't ye have them pinched fer 
kidnappin' Miss Morton ? 

Benington. Simply because Mr. Hanlon advised me 
not to do so. He is of the opinion that if given plenty of 
rope they will, eventually, hang themselves. Do you think 
Mr. Severen will be gone long, Mrs. Brady .? 

Mrs. Brady. He didn't say, sir ; but it's meself that's ex- 
pectin' him back directly. 

Benington. Then we will wait. 

Mrs. Brady. Very well, sir. {Aside) Come, Maggie, 
don't ye see we're in the way ? Shure an' if two's a com- 
pany an' three's a crowd, begorra four's a whole mob 
{going). 

Helen. I trust we have not interfered with your duties, 
Mrs. Brady. 

Mrs. Brady. Not a bit av it, not a bit. 

{Exit Mrs. Brady a?id Maggie, r. i e.) 

Benington. What a veritable rough diamond is that 
woman ! So crude and primitive .without, but perfect and 
flawless within. 

Helen. I alone know the full measure of her kindness. 

Benington. {Aside) Now is my golden opportunity. 
Brace up, Ned ; there's no telling when you shall again have 
a chance so favorable. 

Helen. A penny for your thoughts, Mr. Benington. 

Benington. I was thinking of one of God's fairest 
creatures. 

Helen. Which one of them, pray ? 

Benington. A woman. 

Helen. Indeed! {Turning away') 

Benington. Need I say who that woman is ? ( Taking 
her hand) Need I say that it is yourself? 

Helen. Mr. Benington! 

Benington. Nay, do not seek to withdraw your hand ; 
let me keep it in my possession forever. I love you, Helen ; 
love you with all the ardor and strength of my soul. My 
love for you is the purest and holiest thing in my life. It is 
not a sudden attachment that springs up one moment only 
to die the next ; but one that has had time to mature and 
ripen ; the love of a man who, though young in years, is 
old in experience. When I first saw you I had the good 
fortune to save you from injury in a runaway accident. You 



IN THE TOILS 3I 

were then but a girl, yet your face has remained graven on 
my heart. For montlis I hunted the streets of London in 
the hope of meeting you again, but in vain. I knew not 
where to seek ; I was ignorant of even your name. But I 
meet you again, after the lapse of five long years, and again 
have the happiness of saving you from danger — a danger 
incurred in a brave defense of my rights. Lest you again 
slip out of my life, I make bold to tell you of my love, and 
ask you to become my wife. Miss Morton — Helen — say 
that one little word, a word that will make me the happiest 
fellow in all this world. 

Helen. Since the time of which you speak the image of 
my gallant preserver has been enshrined within my heart. 
Since that time a love for him has been smoldering within 
my breast. And now it bursts into flame and compels me 
to answer — Yes. 

Benington. My darling ! ( They embrace}^ My cup of 
joy is full ! Soon, when I have balked the designs of those 
schemers, you shall be the charming mistress of my home, 
and I the proud possessor of the sweetest little wife in all 
the world. 

Helen. Don't flatter me ; you will find me like other 
girls. We all have our faults. 

Benington. True, but yours must be charming ones. At 
any rate, I am willing to take you as you stand, the bad quali- 
ties along with the good. But come. Mr. Severen seems 
determined not to return as long as we remain. Let us 
take a stroll ; by the time we return he shall, perhaps, have 
put in his appearance. 

Helen. Willingly ; the air is very close and oppressive. 
( They go out into the corridor^ 

Benington. I believe that the police headquarters is 
somewhere in this neighborhood. We will call there and 
endeavor to see Mr. Hanlon, and learn what progress he is 
making toward the recovery of my family records. 

{Exit Benington and Helen, r. u. e.) 
{Enter Severen, r. i e.) 

Severen. {entering (9^^^),Humph ! My caller has not yet 
arrived. {Sitting down at desk and taking up papers}} Rather 
dilatory, it seems to me. 

{Enter Oakleigh, r. r e.) 
Oakleigh. Now for some delicate manoeuvering. It 



32 IN THE TOILS 

will require the touch of a master to play the part up to the 
standard of a shrewd lawyer. {K?iocks at office door.) 

Severen. Come in. 

Oakleigh. {enteri?ig office) Have I the honor of address- 
ing Mr. Severen ? 

Severen. I am Mr. Severen. Be seated, sir ; to what am 
I indebted for the honor of this — {Staggering back) Mer- 
ciful Heaven ! Jack Oakleigh ! 

Oakleigh. {aside) My old pal, Bob Severen, by all that's 
black 1 Curse the luck, why was I not warned by the name. 
I must persuade him that he is mistaken or all is lost. ( 7^o 
Severen) Sir, I perceive that you have mistaken me for 
another. 

Severen. Mistaken! Would to Heaven that I were. 
You are that infamous blackleg. Jack Oakleigh. I have good 
cause to remember you. I paid you a price for your silence 
and to leave the country. 1 demand to know why you have 
returned, 

Oakleigh. {aside) This is the devil's own mess. Ah ; by 
the eternal, I have an idea. My power over him now is as 
great as it was ten years ago. {To Severen) I will admit 
that I was once known as Jack Oakleigh, but my true name 
is Edward Benington. 

Severen. What ! You Edward Benington ! 

Oakleigh. I am Edward Benington, and have docu- 
ments proving my rightful claim to the Benington estate. 

Severen. Ha! So that is your game? You may de- 
pend that I shall nip it in the bud. 

Oakleigh. You will not. 

Severen. I know you to be an impostor and will de- 
nounce you as such. 

Oakleigh. Again I say you will not. Denounce me as 
an impostor and I will denounce you as a murderer. 

Severen. Hush ! For pity's sake, hush ! Some one 
may hear! 

Oakleigh. {laughing) Ah, that brings you to your senses 
does it ? You probably forgot why you paid me the sum of 
five thousand dollars some ten years ago. Bob Severen, the 
law has not forgotten your crime. I can send you to the 
gibbet at my pleasure. Listen to me : With your assist- 
ance I can prove to the satisfaction of the trustees of the 
estate that I am the heir. Refuse to aid me, and you suffer 
the consequences. 

Severen. Man, have you no pity in your heart ? Have 
mercy upon my family if you will have none upon me. 

Oakleigh. It rests solely in your own hands. Co-operate 
with me, or I will brand you as an assassin ! 



IN THE TOILS 



33 



Severen. You must give me time — I cannot think — my 
brain is in a whirl ! Merciful Heaven ! I shall go mad. 
{Si?iks down at his desk.) 

Oakleigh. {looking at his watch) I can give you but a 
short time to consider. My lawyer waits below. I shall re- 
turn with him in a few moments and shall expect a definite 
answer. {Going, aiid pausing at the door) Remember what 
awaits you should you refuse. {Goes into the corridor) The 
game is ours ; all is over but the shouting. 

{Exit Oakleigh, r. i e.) 

Severen. This is terrible. My one great sin recoils 
upon me ! To have him reappear after all these years of 
seeming security makes it doubly hard to bear. He is 
destitute of conscience, and would crush me like a worm 
were I to refuse his demands. There is but one mode of 
escape {opens drawer in desk and takes out revolver), and 
that is here. It requires but a slight pressure of the finger 
and care and trouble will be things of the past. But, were 
I to commit self-murder, what would it avail me ? 'Tis not 
for myself I fear, but for the disgrace the revelation would 
bring upon my wife and boy. That man is a fiend in- 
carnate ; he would pursue me even beyond the grave, and 
by blacking my memory, would visit upon the head of my 
innocent boy the ignominy of his father's crime. No ! no ! 
'tis a cowardly and needless act ; I would sink my soul into 
perdition and it would avail me naught. 

{Enter Grind a7id Oakleigh, r. i e.) 

Oakleigh. As my lawyer, Grind, you will inform Sev- 
eren that you intend taking immediate steps to secure pos- 
session of the estate in my behalf. If he admits in your 
presence that I am Edward Benington, all is well ; and 
should young Benington turn up we shall feel safe. {Knocks 
at door and enters office, followed by Grind.) 

Severen. {arising) What, so soon ! 

Oakleigh. Just so. I desire to present my attorney, 
Mr. Grind. {Aside to Severen) Not a word in his pres- 
ence. 

Grind, {bowing) I am delighted to meet so eminent a 
gentleman. I have taken the liberty of waiting upon you, 
sir, in behalf of my client, Mr. Benington. 

Severen. You must pardon me ; I can give no infor- 
mation regarding the case until I have had time to weigh 
the proofs of your client's identity. I must have more time 
to enter into this affair; {aside to Oakleigh) otherwise 
you can do your worst. 



34 IN THE TOILS 

Oakleigh. {aside) I must not goad him too far. (7b 
Severen) Very well, we will call in a day or two. Mr. 
Grind will leave the documents proving my identity. Per- 
haps when we call again you will be ready to talk business. 

{He opens office door and steps out into corridor, followed by 
Grind. Severen stands ifi doorway. Enter Bening- 
TON a7id Helen, r. i e.) 

Benington. {to Helen) And now, having seen Mr. Han- 
Ion — What ! Grind and Oakleigh here ! 

Grind, {to Severen) My client, sir, possesses all the 
necessary documents and can prove to the satisfaction of 
the English courts that he is Edward Benington. 

Benington. {advancing) You lie ! you shriveled old 
scoundrel ! 

Oakleigh. Curse the luck ! That fellow again ! 

Benington. {to Severen) You are Mr. Severen, I pre- 
sume. Sir, I am Edward Benington ; that man {pointing to 
Oakleigh) is an impostor ! 

Oakleigh. You lie, curse you ! 

Grind, {aside to Oakleigh) Now is the time to test your 
power over Severen. Bring him to his knees now or you 
never will. 

Oakleigh. {aside to Severen) The time has come to de- 
clare in my favor. Refuse, and by Heaven I will hand you 
over to the law. 

Severen. {Aside to Oakleigh) Spare me ! In Heaven's 
name, do not compel me to commit this crime ! ' 

Oakleigh. {still aside) You have the alternative — 
choose ! 

Severen. {to Benington) Sir, I am convinced that this 
man is the person I seek ! 

Benington. Then you, too, are leagued with these rascals 
to defraud me of my rights ! Is this the way you guard 
your trust ? 

Severen. {aside) This is more than I can endure! I 
shall go mad ! mad ! {Enters office and sinks dozen at desk.) 

Benington. Then I am to understand that I have three 
to cope with. Well, the more the merrier. I shall find 
means to thwart you all. Take heed, you precious pair of 
scoundrels ! They say the devil takes care of his own ; if 
this be true, he will require the thousand eyes of Argus and 
need to keep his vigil incessantly to guard you from my 
vengeance. ( Walks up the stage) 

Oakleigh. {aside to Grind) We shall have trouble with 



IN THE TOILS 35 

that young fool. I recommend silencing him at once, for 
good and all. Are you with me, Grind ? 

Grind. To the death ! 

Oakleigh. Good! We must get the girl out of the way 
also. ( Takes off his coat and hands it to Grind) Throw this 
over her head to prevent any outcry. Then carry her down 
to our hack and drive, as though the devil were after you, 
to Nicola's ; I'll attend to the rest. 

(Grind throws coat over Helen's head) 

Helen. Help! help! 

Benington. {rushing upon Grixp) Unhand her, you 
infernal scoundrel ! 

(Oakleigh seizes Benington, bnt is throw7i off. Bening- 
ton turns upon him) 

Oakleigh. {drawing knife) You have crossed my path 
for the last time. 

(Benington closes with him and is stabbed) 

Benington. Good Heaven! lam stabbed! {Falls to 
the floor) 

{Exit Grind, carrying Helen, r. i e.) 

Sever en. {springing up) What's that ? It sounded like 
a struggle. {Opens door) 

Benington. Helen! Helen ! Where are you? They have 
abducted her ! Jack Oakleigh, your coward's life shall pay 
for this day's work ! {Efideavors to rise) 

Oakleigh. Curse you, I'll make a clean job of it! 

{He rushes at Benington with the knife, but Severen co7i- 
fronts him with drawn revolver) 

Severen. Back, you murderous wretch ! Lay but a 
hand upon him and I will rid the world of one viper, at least. 

quick curtain 



ACT IV 

SCENE \. —South Street on Saturday night. Night lights. 
For description, see scene plot. A crowd passing to a7id 
fro. Venders crying out their wares. Enter Oakleigh 
and Grind, l. 

Oakleigh. Well, well! I did not credit you with so 
much enthusiasm in the cause, Grind. What a blood- 
thirsty old reprobate you are, to be sure. But you are 
wrong ; the less bloodshed we have the better for all hands 
concerned — especially the victims. 

Grind. Bah ! You are growing chicken-hearted. 

Oakleigh. No ; only sensible. 

Grind. We can't keep them prisoners forever. We 
must, in the long run, either liberate them — or kill them. 

Oakleigh. The former mode is preferable to the latter. 

Grind. And the moment they secure their liberty they 
will denounce us. 

Oakleigh. That does not necessarily follow. I have a 
way to prevent it. 

Grind. Indeed ! And how would you proceed ? 

Oakleigh. I shall marry the girl. 

Grind. Marry her! You are jesting. 

Oakleigh. I was never more serious in my life. The 
fact is, the witch has captivated me. She is a lovely girl, 
full of fire and spirit, just the sort of a woman I admire. 

Grind. Ah ! I see ; you are in love. But look you. Jack 
Oikleigh, if you imperil our prospects by your nonsense I 
will be revenged. 

Oakleigh. Hov dense you can be. Grind, when you 
have the mind. Can you not see that I intend marrying 
her as much through self-interest as for her charms. 

Grind. Explain yourself 

Oakleigh. As can be easily perceived, the girl is proud 
of both her birth and social standing. Were I once her 
husband she would not proclaim me an impostor, of course 
not for my sake, but for her own. It is hardly likely that 
she would allow any qualms of conscience to mar her social 
position. I have had much to do with women and know 
the animal well. 

Grind. But her brother? 

Oakleigh. She would prevail upon him to act likewise 
and for a like reason. 
36 



IN THE TOILS 



37 



Grind. All easy enough — to talk about. You have 
overlooked the most important point — will the girl con- 
sent? 

Oakleigh. Of course not. 

Grind. And how do you propose to surmount that ob- 
stacle ? 

Oakleigh. We will use threats. 

Grind. As we have discovered, she is not a girl to be 
intimidated by threats. 

Oakleigh. Perhaps not — but we have her brother in 
our power. 

Grind. Ha ! You mean — 

Oakleigh. To force her to comply through fear of in- 
jury to her brother. 

{Enter Maggie, disguised as a newsboy, l. e.) 

Grind. Good ! It strikes me that your plan is a feasible 
one. 

Maggie, {calling out) Here's your Bulletin an' Telegraph. 
Telegraph, sir ? ( To Grind.) 

Grind. No! Get out! 

Maggie. Full account of the sluggin' match in Smoky 
Hollow. 

Grind. Be off with you, or I'll call an officer! 

Maggie. Baboon escaped from the Zoo ; from the de- 
scription he must be your brother. Don't yer want ter hear 
from yer long-lost relation ? 

Grind. If I get my hands on you — {Makes a rush at 
Maggie.) 

Maggie, {eluding him) Say, ye old mug, if ye hit me, I'll 
put the gang onto ye, an' they'll punch that front of yours, 
see ? 

Oakleigh. Come, come. Grind. {Laughing) Don't 
bother with the gutter-snipe. He's too many for you. 
{They walk -^^ It will require us to put my plan into im- 
mediate execution ; delay may ruin all. 

{Exit Grind a7id Oakleigh, r.) 

Maggie, {calling after them) Go throw mud at yerself, ye 
old mummy ; go up to the City Hall and look for yerself in 
the rogues' gallery. Just come back here again an' I'll 
paste ye in the teeth. That's the fiyest pair of crooks out- 
side of Cherry Hill. {Soliloquizi?ig) But I'll find out where 
they've got Miss Morton if I have to dog 'em for a month. 
I ain't doin' a thing but cuttin' a caper in these duds of 
Jimmy O'Brien's. Frocks ain't in the same game. Hello I 



38 



IN THE TOILS 



There they go around the corner. Here ye are! Paper! 
Full account of the butchery in Lombard Street ! 

(^Exit Maggie, r. EnterV>\3xy ajid Benington, l.) 

BExNTINGTON. This is the place where Maggie agreed to 
meet us and report progress, is it not ? 

Bud. Correct. D'ye see that big window in the Dutch 
bakery over there ? 

Benington. That one yonder ? 

Bud. That's the one. I broke that with an organ-grinder 
the other night. An' would you believe it, the Dutchman 
got twisted an' wanted to have me pinched. 

Benington. {lauglmig) Very rude in him, I'm sure. 
We are early {lookijig at watch) ; it lacks a half-hour of the 
appointed time. 

Bud. It's only by good luck yer here at all. If Jack 
Oakleigh had put his knife into the right spot yer friends 
would have been invited to meet at two and go at three. 

Benington. Not good luck, Bud, but the will of Provi- 
dence. Had not my watch-case turned the blade, it would, 
in all probability, have finished me. As it was, it inflicted 
a wound that momentarily deprived me of my strength. 
Doubtless that rascal, Oakleigh, believes me dead. 
Bud. He tried to make sure of it, that's a fact. 
Benington. I have Robert Severen to thank for my pres- 
ervation. What an impenetrable man is that ! After openly 
declaring himself leagued with my foes he saves my life, 
when to have left me perish would have furthered their in- 
terests. His motives are inexpHcable ; I cannot fathom 
them. 

Bud. It'll all come hunkey, after a while. Hello ! here 
comes Maggie. Say, she makes a birdy boy, don't she ? 

{Enter Maggie, r.) 

Maggie. We've got 'em ! I've cornered 'em at last. 

Benington. I ^j^^^^. 

Bud. I 

Maggie. On Carpenter Street, in the big Italian tene- 
ment! Miss Morton's there as sure as Mickey Flaraty's 
cross-eyed. 

Bud. That's a tough joint ! Them dagoes would stick a 
bloke with a stiletto as quick as they would push the 
pitcher. 

Benington. If it were the lower regions, I'd enter it in 
quest of her. Come, we will secure the assistance of the 
poHce. 



IN THE TOILS 39 

Bud. Hold on ! {gj'-aspuig his arm) Don't be in a rush. 
Get the pohce an' ye'll make a mess of it. If the dagoes 
saw a squad of coppers comin' they'd slope an' we'd lose 
our game. 

Benington. Then, in Heaven's name ! what's to be 
done? 

Bud. What's the matter with doin' the job ourselves ? 
You've got a gun an' so have I. Let us once get inside that 
shebang an' we'll make things hum ! 

Benington. Then let us go at once. Good Heavens ! 
We know not what is happening her — and I idling here. 
{Starts toward r.) 

Bud. Don't get rattled. Just go rushin' into things head 
first an' the gutter snipes will cook yer goose. 

Benington. You are right. It will require a cool head 
and a steady hand to outwit these scoundrels. Maggie, 
follow after us and watch on the outside after we enter the 
house. If we do not reappear within an hour, summon 
the police. 

Maggie. I'll have a patrol wagon down there in two 
shakes. 

Benington. And now for desperate work. Come, Bud, 
and summon all your grit. 

Bud. I'm good for any three dagoes in the city. If they 
kick up a muss, I'll fill Carpenter Street full of busted mac- 
aroni. 

{All exit, R.) 

SCENE 2, — The interior of an Italian tenemeyit house. 
Lights doim. For description, see scene plot. Enter 
Helen, r. 

Helem. What a fateful journey this has been ! Little 
did I dream when I left my London home that such an ex- 
perience awaited me in America. Imprisoned in this vile 
den by men, who in their cupidity would not hesitate at 
actual murden Hesitate ! they have already committed it ! 
Did I not hear Ned cry out that he was stabbed ? Did I not 
hear him fall to the floor in, possibly, his death agonies ? 
And Richard ! what have they done with him ? If they 
have crimsoned their hands in the life blood of one man, 
would they hesitate at the repetition of the crime? Good 
Heavens, these men are demons ! Why should I undergo all 
this ? What have [ done to merit all this suffering ? I 
cannot endure it ; I would that I were dead! Then, at 
least, I should be free from the clutches of these monsters. 



40 IN THE TOILS 

{Exit Helen, l., mid enter Benington and Bud, door in 

fiat) 

Benington. Thus far we have succeeded in evading 
detection. But I fear to open a door lest some of these 
Italian thugs be behind it. 

Bud. We must lay low an' wait. Ha ! there's some one 
coming. We are in for it now. 

Benington. Never say die. If their intentions be hostile, 
we will give them a warm reception. 

Bud. Pull yer gun ! ( They draw revolvers) 

{Enter two Italians, door in fiat) 

First Italian. Diavolo ! Who are you ? 

Second Italian. What-a for you-a com-a here ? 

Benington. {to Bud) We must take them off their guard 
if possible. {To Italians) We are health inspectors and 
have come to look into the sanitary arrangements of this 
house. 

First Italian. You-a lie ! You-a com-a here to-a spy ! 

Second Italian. You-a never leave-a this house alive ! 
( They both draw knives) 

Benington. Hold ! {Pointiiig revolver) Another step and 
you are dead men. 

Bud. Drop them pig-stickers {poi?tts revolver), or I'll put 
a slug in yer thinkers. 

( The Italians drop their knives) 

Benington. Bud, open that door. 

(Bud opens door, r.) 

Now, you pretty pair, face about and march into that 
room. 

( The Italians hesitate) 
Bud. March, you son of an organ grinder, march ! 
( They all exit r. Enter Helen, l.) 

Helen. I fancied I heard voices ! Ah ! They are re- 
turning. I will not withdraw, but confront them and de- 
mand my liberty. 

{Enter Grind and Oakleigh, door in fiat) 

Grind. Ah ! Here is the fair enslaver, Jack. You have 
an excellent eye for female beauty. 



IN THE TOILS 41 

Oakleigh. I trust I see you in good health, Miss 
Morton. 

Helen. Health never intrudes itself upon such a squalid 
den as this. 

Oakleigh. You need not remain here, if you so desire. 

Helen. Have I ever expressed a desire to remain? 

Oakleigh. You do not grasp the meaning. 

Helen. Then do not speak in enigmas, sir. 

Oakleigh. I have the honor of making you a pro- 
posal. 

Helen. Of what nature, sir ? 

Oakleigh. Of marriage. 

Helen. Sir, you insult me ! 

Oakleigh. My proposal is a perfectly honorable one. 

Helen. Honorable! What has a man such as you in 
common with honor ? 

Grind. Have a care, girl! We are not to be trifled 
with. 

Helen. I care not for your threats. Though but a weak, 
defenseless girl, I defy and despise you ! 

Oakleigh. Would you prefer remaining a prisoner in 
this filthy place to being happy as my wife ? 

Helen. I would pass the remainder of my life in abject 
misery rather than become the wife of a man whose hands 
are stained with human blood ! 

Oakleigh. I see that threats of a personal nature will 
not affright you. But we shall see how you stand the test 
which I have prepared. Grind, bring him in. 

{Exit Grind, door ijiflat) 

Helen Morton, I have determined that you shall be my 
wife, by fair means or foul. I have already exercised the 
fair ; now I shall try the foul. 

{Enter Grind, Morton, Bud, a?id Benington, door in flat, 
the two latter disguised as Italiaiis. Morton's hands are 
bound behind his back?) 

Morton. Helen ! How came you here ? 

Helen. Richard! My brother! {Rushes toward him^" 

Oakleigh. {gi^asping her arm) That will follow in good 
time. 

Grind, {to Morton) We have brought her here to com- 
fort you, my dear sir ; to comfort and console you. {Chuck- 
li?ig.) 

Morton. You treacherous toad ! {Kicks hitn) I often 



42 IN THE TOILS 

wonder why Heaven permitted such a viper as you to pass 
from under its creating hand and hve ! 

Oakleigh. Enough of this. We are not here to pay 
doubtful compliments, but for business. Richard Morton, 
I have just made your sister a proposal of marriage, and she 
has refused. 

Morton. Refused ! {Struggli?ig with Benington and 
Bud, who hold him) Curse you ! If I were free I would 
strangle you ! 

Oakleigh. Compose yourself and listen to reason. I 
asked your sister's hand as a gentleman should. 

Morton. A gentleman ! 

Oakleigh, She refused me. We now mean to adopt 
measures to force her to comply. 

Helen. Threats will not avail you. Though you torture 
me, I will still refuse ! 

Oakleigh. We shall see. {To supposed Italians) Do 
your work. ( They stir up embers in fireplace, and put sev- 
eral small iron bars into the flames) We shall now try a 
new mode of persuasion. 

Helen. Merciful Heaven ! What would you do ? 

Oakleigh. In their own country these men were 
brigands, and were accustomed to torturing their prisoners 
until they forced them to pay a ransom for their release. 
Do you see those irons ? They will soon be at a white 
heat. Swear to become my wife within four-and-twenty 
hours, or your brother shall be turned over to the tender 
mercies of these men ! 

Helen. Demon ! You dare not ! 

Oakleigh. You shall see. Bind him to that chair 
{to supposed Italians). 

{ They bind Morton to the chair) 

Grind. When you hear the hiss of his burning flesh 
you will be glad to accede to our demands. 

Morton. She shall never consent, you fiends ; though 
you murder me, she shall still refuse ! 

Helen. Are you human ? Has your greed for gold 
frozen every stream of kindness in your hearts ! Do what 
you will with me, but spare my brother {falls upon her 
k?iees). See, upon my knees I implore you not to commit 
this dreadful deed. 

Oakleigh. Do you consent ? 

Morton. She shall never consent. 

Grind. Do your work, men. 



IN THE TOILS 43 

Helen. No, no, no ; in God's name I appeal to you 
{to supposed Italians). 

Oakleigh. Curse you, you yellow-skinned dogs ! Will 
you do as you are bid ? 

Benixgton, We will not. 

Grind. That is not Nicola's voice! {Grasping Oak- 
leigh's arm^ These men are spies ! 

Oakleigh. Spies! Then they shall never live to tell 
of what they saw here this nio:ht. {Draws revolver') 

Bud. Another step and I'll make a sieve out of ye. 
{Points revolver >^ 

Grind. Who are you, in the fiend's name? 

(Benington and Bud throw off their disguises) 

Benington. Friends of the helpless and champions of 
persecuted ! 

QUICK CURTAIN 



ACT V 

SCENE. — Drawing-room m house of Robert Severen. 
For description see scejie plot. Severen seated at a 
table, R. 

Severen. This villainous piece of business has gone 
too far. The insolent effrontery of that scoundrel, Oakleigh, 
has roused within me a spirit of desperation and defiance. 
I will submit to his dictation no longer — driven to bay even 
the rat will turn and show its fangs. He has hounded me 
with the relentless persistency of a blood-hound, rendering 
me capable of any deed to throw off his intolerable yoke. 
He shall swear this night to haunt me no more, or his hand 
shall lose its cunning and his lips be sealed forever in the 
darkness of the grave. {Rings bell) 

{Enter Maggie, door in flat) 

Maggie. Did you ring, sir ? 

Severen. I did. I am expecting a visitor. When he 
arrives show him here. Do 3^ou understand ? 

Maggie. Yes, sir. 

Severen. My sole reason for engaging you and Mrs. 
Brady during the absence of my family and servants, was 
that I could depend upon you not to pry into what did not 
concern you. Under no circumstances must yourself or 
Mrs. Brady molest me during my interview with the person 
I am expecting. 

Maggie. Very well, sir. 

{Exit Maggie, door 171 flat) 

Severen. Should this meeting terminate as I fear it will, 
I am prepared to engage these conspirators with their own 
weapons, black treachery, low cunning, and — if occasion 
demands — violence. 

{Exit Severen, r. i e., and enter Bud, door i}iflat) 

Bud. Well, say! {looking aroimd) This goes right up 
front. The old woman and Mag will be too swell to talk to 
a fellow if they hang up their hats in this joint long. But 
they won't be long here if they don't keep their lamps open. 
Tlie front door was wide open an' I waltzed right in without 
sendin' up me card. They want to put a chain on that 
openin' or some fly duck'll float in here an' swipe the silver. 
I wonder where Mag an' the old woman is ? 

44 

LofC. 



IN THE TOILS 45 

{Enter Maggie, door in flat) 

Maggie. Gee-whiz ! If there ain't Bud. Well, don't he 
just look on the front seat of the band-wagon. But I'm 
something of a swell now meself. Just watch me knock 
him off his balance. {Coughs.) 

Bud. {perceiving her) Hello, Mag! I was just wonderin' 
what part of the joint ye hung up in. Say, ye look right 
up to date in them new duds. 

Maggie. Sir! How dare you address me without an in- 
troduction ? How dare you call my habiliments duds ? 

Bud. Eh ! 

Maggie. Have you suddenly become bereft of the sense 
of hearing, or are your educational deficiencies the cause of 
your failure to comprehend what I articulate. {Aside) That 
ought to stupefy him. 

Bud. The grub ain't good in this neighborhood, Mag, is 
it ? Been lunchin' off Webster's Unabridged, eh ? 

Maggie. The feed's out o' sight. But, oh. Bud, when I 
walk around this scrumptious drawing-room I must sling a 
big bluff or I'd bust. Say, Bud ! How nice you look in yer 
new polka-dot tie. An' say ; on the dead now {feeling the 
leg of his tronsers) how much did you give fer the bags ? 

Bud. a dollar thirteen. The dollar was plugged an' I 
got Goldenstein to chalk up the thirteen till pay-day. But 
I've got slashin' good news, Mag; a job in the post-ofiice, 
salary one hundred a month, an' it's a lead-pipe cinch ; all 
I've got to do is to fire the bums off the steps. We can 
come up to the scratch now, Mag ; say the word, an' we'll 
get the knot tied a-Sunday. 

Maggie. Oh, Bud ! Won't that be nice. {Embracijig 
him) 

Bud. Well, ye can just bet your sweet life it will. But 
that ain't all. Ye know that little brick house at the end of 
McGerrigal's Alley ? Well, McGerrigal says he'll let us 
have it fer three plunkers a month cheaper than any one 
else, because I licked the tax-collector fer him one day last 
week. 

Maggie. Won't that be just on the top of the heap ! 

Bud. Won't it though ! But I've got somethin' else yet. 
When I was buyin' the togs I struck a bargain with Gold- 
enstein. He's goin' to furnish the joint fer us — an' he's 
goin' to do it cheap. If he don't I'll take the gang down 
there an' we'll clean out the shebang. 

Maggie. An' just to think ; when we are housekeepin' 
I can dust, an* sweep, an' cook, an' make the bed, an' have 



46 IN THE TOILS 

everything lookin' nice when you come home from work. 
An' in the evenin' you can smoke yer pipe — 

Bud. An' push the can if any of our friends come to see 
us. I tell ye, Mag, it'll be bang up ! 

Maggie. I'll be awful glad to have a home of my own. 
I ain't had one since mother died an' the old man started 
to booze. (Cries.) 

Bud. An' ye were only a kid then, too. I remember 
when ye lived in Slattery's Court an' chased the bottle fer 
the old man. Ye've had hard lines, Mag, but it's all over 
now. Ye'll never be sorry for it if ye run double with me, 
I'm a tough mug, but me heart's all right. Shut off the 
water-works, Mag ; after we're married I'll give ye me 
wages every Saturday night. (Maggie embraces him.) 

{Enter Mrs. Brady, door in flat) 

Mrs. Brady, {aside) Arrah, would ye look at them slob- 
berin' over one another ! What the divil's Maggie a-cryin' 
about, I dunno ? 

Bud. But say, Mag. There's one thing I don't like. 

Maggie. What's that ? 

Bud. I don't like to leave the old woman. 

Mrs. Brady, {aside) Lave me, is it! Begorra, they're 
goin' to be married ! 

Maggie. Leave her ! Why, say. Bud, ain't she goin' to 
hang up her bonnet with us ? 

Bud. I'd like her to, but — 

Maggie. You thought I'd kick, eh ? 

Bud. That's just it. 

Maggie. I thought you were acquainted with me ! Your 
mother's a real old Irish lady. She was a mother to me 
after me own mother died. D'j^e think, after that, I'd take 
her son away from her an' give her the go-by ? You look 
here. Bud Brady ; if she don't put her feet under our table, 
I'll give ye the dead shake, an' marry Hans Swartz, the 
Dutch butcher. 

Mrs. Brady. Oh! That's the darlin' ! She wouldn't 
see a poor old creature left alone. ( Weeps loudly) 

Bud. Sufferin' Jerusalem ! There's the old woman, an' 
she's piped off all we said ! 

Mrs. Brady, {holding out her aj^ms) Maggie, darlin'. 

Maggie. Mrs. Brady ! 

( They embrace and weep together) 

Mrs. Brady. Oh, the blaguard ! To want to leave his 
poor old mother all alone ! 



IN THE TOILS 47 

Bud. But say, mom ! I didn't want to leave ye. 

Maggie. Yes, you did ; you said you did. {Still weep- 
ing) 

Bud. Well, say, this is enough to drive a fellow to smoke 
cigarettes. 

{A bell rings off L. c.) 

Maggie, {drying her eyes) It's the man Mr. Severen's 
been expectin'. I'm to show him in here. 

{Exit Maggie, door in flat) 

Mrs. Brady. Come down to the kitchen, me bucko 
{takes Bud by the ear). Leave your old mother, will ye, ye 
thafe av the world. Faith an' I'll knock that out av yer 
head, if I break a flat-iron doin' it. 

( They exit, r. i e., Mrs. Brady leading Bud by the ear. Enter 
Maggie aiid Benington, door in flat) 

Maggie. Mr, Severen's been expectin' ye. Sit down ; 
he'll be here in a minute. 

{Exit Maggie, door in flat) 

Benington. Expecting me ! There must be some mis- 
take, Maggie — Hello, she's gone. Can it be that Severen 
has anticipated this visit and prepared some plausible — 
pshaw ! I am harsh with the man. Calm reflection makes 
it obvious that he was forced to act as he has, I shall en- 
deavor to wring a confession from him. {A bell rings 
off L. c.) Ah ! It seems that Severen is to have another 
caller. 

{EnteryihQQiY., door i?iflat) 

Maggie. Mr. Benington, it's Jack Oakleigh. I left the 
front door open an' he's comin' down the hall. 

Benington. Ah ! Coming to have a conference with 
Severen, I'll be bound. Could I but overhear what will be 
said — Ha ! the portieres — the very thing ! Not a word {to 
Maggie) to Severen or Oakleigh that I am here. 

Maggie, Quick! Here he is. (Benington conceals 
himself behind the portieres) 

{Enter Oakleigh, door hi flat) 

Oakleigh. The door was ajar and I took the liberty of 
walking in. Pray announce me to Mr, Severen. {Exit 
Maggie, door i7i flat) This would be a neat crib for a good 
professional to try his hand on. I shall have to give the 
boys a tip. 



4$ IN THE TOILS 

{Enter Severen, door in flat.) 

Severen. Ah! You have arrived. {Looking at his 
watch) You are punctual. 

Oakleigh. And now that I'm here, what do you want ? 

Severen. To talk over this imposition, this scheme to 
defraud young Benington of his rights. 

Oakleigh. I thought this matter settled for good. You 
acknowledged me the rightful claimant in the presence of 
Benington himself, and have since written the English 
authorities that everything is settled. 

Severen. I have communicated no such intelligence, 
and, what is more, do not intend doing so. 

Oakleigh. Bob Severen, if I thought you were playing 
me false, I would — 

Severen. No threats. I have done with you and your 
schemes. I refuse to be a party to your villainy. Further- 
more, you shall forego this nefarious plot and keep your 
lips sealed concerning any act of mine of which you may 
h^ve knowledge. 

Oakleigh. {Laitghing) You don't ask much, Severen ; in 
fact, you are quite modest. {Grasping his arm) You forget 
that I hold your reputation, your very life, in the hollow of 
my hand. And yet you presume to dictate to me as to what 
I shall and shall not do. You forget, my good friend, what 
an interesting story I could tell the police officials of New 
York City. You forget that the body of a man was found 
one morning, shot through the heart, in a deserted gam- 
bling hell. The murderer was never discovered, and the 
fact has been a thorn in the side of the authorities ever 
since. I need hardly say that they would be delighted if 
informed where they could lay their hands upon him. And 
this information I propose to give them if you do not act 
strictly in accordance with my desire. 

Severen. You scoundrel! You know full well that I 
shot John Ogden in self-defense. 

Benington. {aside) John Ogden ! Can it be the same ! 
If so, I begin to see the light. 

Oakleigh. Perhaps so. But would a jury believe me, 
the witness, or you, the accused murderer ? 

Severen. Stop! No more insults, or you shall rue it. 
John Ogden, as you know, drew his weapon on me because 
I accused him of cheating at cards. My act was clearly one 
of self-preservation. You were the only witness to the 
affair, and, like the contemptible scoundrel that you are, 
you threatened to denounce me as a murderer unless I paid 
a heavy sum for your silence. In my terror I allowed you to 



;n the toils 



49 



bleed me, to spare rti}' family the disgrace of a trial. But 
do you think because I was weak enough to allow you to 
extort money from me then that I will submit to you ex- 
erting your power over me whenever it pleases you to do 
so ? No, Jack Oakleigh, you have a different man to deal 
with. Do you remember the concluding words of my note 
requesting your presence here to-night ? 

Oakleigh. I can't say that I do. 

Severen. Then I will refresh your memory. The 
words were these : " Call at the hour named, and we will 
setde this matter once and forever." I have endeavored to 
persuade you to forego your purpose, but in vain. There 
remains but one other mode of argument. {Opens a drawer 
in the cabinet) 

Oakleigh. {aside) The fool must have taken leave of 
his senses to defy me in this way ! 

(Severen takes two knives from the drawer and throws them 
upon the floor.) 

Severen. Select the one which you prefer. 

Oakleigh. Severen ! What would you do ? 

Severen. Give you a chance for your cowardly life. 
You have hunted me down, and now I stand at bay. Take 
up one of those knives and fight for your life. 

Oakleigh. And if I refuse ? 

Severen. Then I will kill you with as little compunc- 
tion as I would a rabid dog. 

Oakleigh. {aside) This is more than I bargained for. 
The man is stark, staring mad. 

Severen. Quick ! I will give you ten seconds to choose. 
( Walks toivard the portieres}^ 

Oakleigh. {aside) You would murder me, would you ? 
{Picks up one of the knives, holds it behiiid him and advances 
toivard Severen.) I do not desire any violence, Severen ; 
{to Severen) doubtless we can come to a peaceable un- 
derstanding. 

Severen. It must be one thing or the other. I will not 
parley or — 

Oakleigh. Then die, you fool ! {Striking at him ivith 
knife) 

Benington. {dashing the knife from his hand) Not just 
yet, my friend ! 

Severen. | Benington! 

Oakleigh. j Curse you, you again ! 

Benington. Your humble servant. 

Severen. You have saved my life ! 



50 IN THE TOILS 

Benington. Then we are quits. (Oakleigh makes for 
door in flat, but Benington bars his ivay') You are not 
leaving us so soon, my boy. Stay a little, I have a story to 
tell which will interest you and Mr. Severen exceedingly. 
Mr. Severen, doubtless you are surprised at my presence 
in your house. I came with the intention of thanking you 
for saving me from the murderous ferocity of this gentle- 
man {boiving to Oakleigh), little dreaming that I should 
have the opportunity of clearing myself of the debt of 
gratitude I owed you. During your conference I over- 
heard Oakleigh accuse you of the murder of a certain 
John Ogden. You will be greatly surprised to learn that I 
have proof positive that John Ogden is still alive. 

Severen. Merciful Heaven, I thank thee ! 

Oakleigh. It's an infernal lie ! 

Benington. It is the truth. You could not have seen 
the newspaper accounts, Mr. Severen, of the finding of 
Ogden desperately wounded, and of his refusal to give the 
name of his assailant. 

Severen. No. I left the city at once in order to leave 
my crime as far behind as possible. I forbore reading the 
newspapers that I might forget. 

Benington. That accounts for it. Perhaps you are sur- 
prised at my intimate knowledge of the case. The fact is, 
I met this same John Ogden at Monte Carlo about a year 
ago. We became very intimate and, in a communicative 
moment, he told me of his narrow escape from death. 

Severen. Then this man's power over me is at an end. 
I now see my way clear toward securing you your rights 
and placing him behind prison bars. 

Oakleigh. {aside) It seems to me the jig's up, {Aloud) 
Surely you would not be so cruel. {To Severen) What! 
Put a former crony behind the bars of a nasty jail ! Perish 
the thought. You are not yourself, you are excited, con- 
fused, and will think better of it anon. 

Severen. Your flippancy will not save you. 

{A bell rings off l. c.) 

Hark ! There is some one at the door. ( Taps bell on 
table) 

{Enter Maggie, door in flat) 

See who is at the door. 

{Exit Maggie, door in flat) 

Oakleigh. Don't you know, my dear fellow, that Scrip- 
ture admonishes those who would be virtuous to turn the 



r 



IN THE TOILS -j 

(Enter Maggie, door in flat) 
Maggie. It's old Grindsey, an' he's pinched ! 
(Enter, door in flat Hanlon, Grind, and Policeman Po- 
LICEMAN holding Grind by tlic shoulder) 

ato'r^sX i„"the"toi,s"°-' '' ''''"'' "'^ °- °*- --P'- 
co^a^b'^o'e'r""; 4^!^ \ ?'^ ^^^^ apprehended my esteemed 

(^ <5^// r/;^^j- ^^ L. c.) 
Sever EN. Maggie, attend. 

(Exit Maggie, door in flat) 
is herr'" """ ^^''^''^^ necessary, Mr. Hanlon ; your prisoner 

(Oakleigh makes a dash for the door i?iflat. Enter Bud 
and confro7its him) 

old man. ^"^ ^' '^''''''- ^^'''' "^' ^^"" ^^^^ ^^ ^^t' Oakey, 
(^/^/^r Maggie, Morton, and Helen, «^^^r zV^yf^/.) 
Maggie. Mr. an' Miss Morton 
Morton. Pardon me, Mr. Severen, I did not know that 

myself. ^"^ ''^^'^"^ ^^ '^" '^^^ ^^ ^^^"^ ^ 1^^ unto 

Severen. Yes ; they are in a fair way of receiving their 

hel ' at last, and the Benington estate has found an 

sh^lTemr''nto'^F'"l"V'"'^"''' "^ ^"^^"'^^ ^^ -"ded. I 
snail return to England as soon as possible 

, Benington. You shall return alone. Your sister remains 
in the land of the free and the home of the brave She 1 L 
consented to become Mrs. Benington at once 



52 IN THE TOILS 

Helen. You are not angry, Richard ? 

Morton. Angry ! Why should I be ? You would be 
married some time or other, and I may as well lose you 
now as later. Another thing {exteiidmg his hand to Ben- 
ington) your affianced is a man after my own heart. 

Benington. {shaking his hand) You shall never repent 
giving her to me. It shall ever be my foremost thought to 
make her happy. 

Hanlon. With your permission, Mr. Severen, we will 
remove the prisoners. 

Oakleigh. Well, good-bye, everybody, I trust that you 
will call upon us now and then, even if it is only to make 
inquiries concerning our health. 

Grind. My curse, my black bitter curse, rest upon you 
all. 

Policeman. Here, here ! None of that. Strike a gait 
now, or I'll club you. 

{Enter Mrs. Brady, right door) 

Mrs. Brady. Ah, ha! So yer pinched at last, are ye, ye 
old son av a gun ? Bad luck go with you to yer big board- 
ing house on Cherry Hill ! 

{Exit Hanlon, Grind, Oakleigh, and Policeman, door 
i?i flat) 

Benington. Here are friends to whom we owe not a 
little. {Shakes hands with Bud and Maggie.) You shall 
never regret having raised your hands in defense of the 
helpless. 

Bud. I always did have a hankerin' for the under dog in 
a fight. 

Maggie. I'd a-done almost anything to knock the pins 
from under the feet of that leather-faced shrimp. Grind. 

Bud. Ladies and gents, me an Mag's goin' to be spliced 
next Sunday afternoon, an' we invite you all to the wed- 
din.' 

Mrs. Brady. An' if ye'll come it's a good time ye'll 
have. Troth an' I'll make my Bud's weddin' take the shine 
off any that's ever took place in the ward. 

Helen. Dear Mrs. Brady, I want to thank you for all 
your goodness to me, and my brother also wishes to thank 
you. (Morton shakes Mrs. Brady's hand) We can never 
repay you — never. 

Mrs. Brady. Then don't try, darlin'. So this is yer 



IN THE TOILS 53 

brother. Faith, it's many a time I gave him up fer dead, I 
did that. 

Morton. But you see I am very much ahve. We can 
afford to look back upon it all and treat it as an unpleasant 
dream. 

Sever EN. To me it shall ever be a dreadful reahty. For 
days I have felt that my name, my very life, hung in the 
balance. But, thank Heaven, I am forever out of the 

TOILS. 



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